


Diadem

by Kuruku



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Blood and Violence, Concubines, Emperor and Empress AU, M/M, Revenge, Sad Ending, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:41:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28087884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuruku/pseuds/Kuruku
Summary: An unwilling empress and a bloodthirsty emperor.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 62
Kudos: 514





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lilku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilku/gifts).



> Thanks to my friend Lilku for proofreading this thing.

Hands roamed his thin waist, searching for any imperfections when there were none. He wasn't foolish enough to stain his body. His parents had taught him better than that. At the mention of them, he stood up straighter. 

It had been a few years since his parent's deaths. A few years since he had to fight his way up in the world to protect his sister and estate. A few years since he was selected for the emperor's line of empresses. His eyes darkened at the mere memory of that day. 

That day had sealed his fate in a loveless marriage with a man he despised more than anything in the world. He wished he had never accepted the invite and had stayed home. Maybe then he wouldn't be here, in a too fancy room having his waist touched. Being the "empress" wasn't what it was chalked up to be. Dream found that he hated it. 

So many times had he found himself having to fake a smile for enemies and allies alike. Times where he would have to ignore the mocking murmurs from the nobles for his existence. Nobles were the absolute worst in his opinion. They gossiped every waking second and would spread scandals around like the plague. News of his poor upbringing had been heard by all on his very first day, humiliating him in front of everyone. 

Those days were filled with nothing but bitterness. 

"Your majesty, His majesty is requesting to speak with you." 

Dream held back in the groan he wanted to release. Goddammit. 

He raised his hand in a dismissive motion indicating that the servant go let the Emperor in. 

"Let go of my waist now, Countess. The Emperor is coming in." 

The Countess smiled up at him with such a sickly sweet façade. The woman held a grudge over him because of him stealing her daughter's rightful place. As if he wanted this cursed position. 

As the Countess stepped away, the large wooden doors swung open. He didn't bother turning to look at the Emperor, why would he? He found his face appalling. Raising his jewel covered hand to his drawer, he wrapped thin fingers around the comb. 

He ran it through his crownless head of hair, waiting for the bastard to speak. 

"How is my dear Empress on this fine day?" 

Large arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him into a hard chest. The scent of blood surrounded him, his nose scrunched up in disgust at it. 

"Don't call me that." 

He continued brushing his hair slowly as the Emperor chuckled. 

"Has my dear Empress gotten shy? Hm?" 

He ignored those words, continuing his brushing. 

"Countess, you may leave now." 

Soft footsteps exited before the room was doused in silence. Dream closed his eyes and only ran the comb through his hair. He wanted the bastard to leave already. 

"Dream." 

His hand stilled. 

A few moments passed before Dream resumed his actions. 

"What is it?" 

"Why don't you accept your position? You're the mother of this country. Why don't you accept the title?" 

Dream shut his eyes, the comb coming to a halt. With measured movements, he placed the comb down and turned to face the bastard. He brought his hand up to caress the man's jawline and slowly raised his eyes to meet his. 

Eyes the color of the blood he reeked of met his emerald. He hated those eyes more than anything, they reminded him of the days where he fought tooth and nail for a chance at life. 

He leaned forward to the bastard's ear, lips touching the ridge of the appendage. 

"Because I'd be admitting I'm yours." 

He sank his teeth into the ear, saddened by the lack of reaction. The taste of iron filled his mouth as he pulled away. 

"And I'm not."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read this before you read the chapter. The lines are separation between past and present. The little asterisks mean that part is still continuing just the time skipped ahead a bit. If anyone thinks this makes the work confusing then tell me.
> 
> Throughout this the writing style will change some, from really simple to somewhat more wordy due to me seeing which works better. 
> 
> This is not beta/proofread besides a mechanical one (friend was busy) so, sentences may be weird. Other than that, enjoy!

It was no surprise to Dream when the day after royal guards barred him from exiting his room with a royal decree. That bastard of a man couldn’t bear when someone went against his wishes, with an ego as big as his own. It really wasn’t a surprise he’d done this, not after prior events. Thinking about those events left a bitter taste in his mouth with a growing resentment in his chest. What an egotistical bastard.

Huffing and crossing his arms, he made his way to his balcony window. It was still very early in the day; the sun peeking over the Claret Mountains. The warm sun rays not yet entering the windows of the slumbering men and women. It’d be a few more minutes before that happened, so until then the empire would continue slumbering while he watched over them. While Dream despised being in the position of Empress, he truly cared for the people who the other empires considered his own. The people were not to blame for the actions of those who cared not for their well beings but carried on their shoulders the title of Emperor, Archduke, Duke, Count, Viscount, and Baron.

The people were innocent in his eyes, unlike any who every citizen referred to as noble. It was absolutely ridiculous for any to expect Dream to care for people who treated him like trash when he was still a commoner. The amount of nobles he had to put up with trying to gain favor with him was pathetic. When the crown rested upon his head for all to see, their hearts had sung a different tune to what they had earlier on in his selection process. When he had nothing but his sister, they all mocked and spread rumors of him to any who would listen. But now, as he sat beside the bastard of an Emperor, they desired to be friends with him. What a fucking joke.

If they really thought he gave a shit about them, then they were more idiotic than he thought. His heart rested solely with his people. Hence, why he would wake up an hour before necessary to look over the empire as the people would wake.

While waking up early let him watch over his people, it gave him ample time to think. Today did not differ from this schedule. His thoughts focused solely on nobles and their despicable ways of life. It was absolutely disgusting that the empire paraded such evil people around as if they were some exotic beast. Nobles were leeches, that’s all they were. Not some rare beast. Leeches.

Nobles took the credit for the labor the commoners did, and for what? For some more riches in their overfilled treasuries when they had enough to last them centuries? It was revolting. The commoners slaved away to earn a measly keep while the nobles sat on their asses all day, threatening the workers with lashings if they didn’t like the progress. No matter how the nobles tried selling themselves as some saint, Dream knew the truth. How could he not? Dream had once been a worker for those disgusting nobles and had borne witness to all the atrocities the nobles committed. Long days of hard work for a pay that could barely support himself and his sister, while the nobles earned enough to support himself and his sister for an entire year.

On days where an inspection would occur, the nobles would decorate their homes with riches that if sold could feed every worker for a year. They decorated the properties to the high heavens with not a single speck of dirt in sight. They would dress the working class in fine clothes and have them put on a show to appease the inspector. If the workers disobeyed, they would not only lose their jobs but would also receive lashings until the sun went down. It was all a sham the nobles put on for more wealth. Hide the suffering of the working people, bring the inspector to see them and receive praise. That’s all it was.

And after the show ended, they stripped the workers of the fine clothes and sent them back to work. The kind treatment they showed the inspector gone in an instant, replaced by the disgusted scowls of the nobles. Those scowls were branded into his mind. They couldn’t not be branded into his mind. Those scowls were the scars he received from them. On quiet nights, he would see the phantoms of these scowls. They plagued him even after living years of wealth.

A sigh escaped his mouth along with a hand being placed onto his face, rubbing softly. This empire was a fucking disaster. His heart ached for the citizens. If only that bastard were a good Emperor and not some fucking bloodthirsty idiot. The amount of times that bastard had killed someone because he felt like it was many in number. It was fucking ridiculous. A messenger talked too slow, dead. A messenger talked too fast, dead. Someone dared to speak to him, dead. A chef made his food wrong, dead. It was so fucking stupid.

The only excuse the bastard of an Emperor had in his bloodthirsty nature was that it made every other Emperor fear him. Because of this, no empire dared to start a war. But of course, the fucking idiot had to be the one instead who started wars. Hell, the man welcomed the wars with open arms. He purposefully acted like an asshole to other Emperors just to start conflict.

Being married to the bastard was like being married to a child. Insufferable.

He let out another sigh, letting his hands fall to his dress. The fabric was soft but also hideous. All of his dresses were quite ugly now that he thought about it. All colors he despised with a passion. He’d rather be dressed in greens or the colors of the sun. Speaking of the sun, it had finally risen.

Bathed in a warm yellow, the empire began waking. He could faintly see people spill out of their homes. Animal pulled carts moving to the gates to transport goods and citizens. The day was finally beginning, which meant that breakfast would come soon.

“Your majesty, his majesty has sent you breakfast.”

Speak of the devil and he will appear.

“Come in.”

He didn’t bother turning around, wanting to continue looking over the empire. The clacking of flat shoes sounded from behind him. It was a maid from the sounds of it, a new one at that. No trained maid would make that much noise while walking in fear of causing a disturbance for the royals. He glanced behind him just in time to see the maid place a silver platter down. Atop it were assortments of breakfast delicacies. He noticed how the delicacies were the ones he could not eat. Petty bastard.

He expected to hear the maid leave, but to his surprise she didn’t. Instead, she stood perfectly still and silent, waiting to for permission to speak. He turned around to face her, his socked feet making no noise.

“Speak. Did the Emperor send a message?”

Nodding meekly, the maid cleared her throat before reciting the message.

“Empress Dream, you will stay inside your room until I come see you. Any meals or papers will be sent to you via servant. I expect you to have learned your lesson in this time frame. Am I understood?”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. What a bitch. This was the man everyone feared? A man who couldn’t even deal with a blow at his ego. You have got to be kidding him. Fucking child. What was he going to do next? Complain to daddy?

“Tell him,’ I understand, but you mustn’t provoke the Nether Prince when he arrives for today’s meeting. If you cause another war, I’ll slit your throat.’”

He saw the maid shake, looking as if she was about to faint. He felt pity for her and sent her a warm smile.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to be scared. He won’t hurt you as long as you don’t make any eye contact as you deliver the message.”

That seemed to calm her as she nodded.

“You are dismissed.”

With a bow and a “yes, your majesty”, the maid left. He watched her leave, waiting for the door to shut before sighing. His hands gripping tightly onto the fabric of his dress. Annoyance buzzed through him as he recalled the words the maid had said, “I expect you to have learned your lesson”.

“I’ll kill him when I see him. Son of a bitch.”

His annoyance was strong as he went to go eat the disgusting food. While he wasn’t picky and could eat basically anything because of his upbringing, he couldn’t stand these delicacies. These delicacies were made with one specific ingredient that Dream could not eat at all. Cranberry. Whenever he ate something a cranberry had even touched, his stomach would cramp horribly. It always felt like something was tearing his stomach apart, trying to get out of him. The bastard knew this. And yet, he sent food made with the damn berry. Fucking asshole.

If he couldn’t even eat something a cranberry touched, how was he supposed to eat something made with it? He couldn’t. He glared at the silver platter before picking it up, making sure none of the food even touched him. The cursed thing was going out the window.

While he found it a waste to throw it away, there was nothing he could do besides that. He was expected to eat it as it was sent from the Emperor himself. If he didn’t get rid of it, he’d be locked up in here for longer.

Opening the balcony window, he turned the platter upside down, watching as it fell into a bush. He felt his heart ache at the waste. Sighing, he went back inside. Throwing the silver platter onto the table, ignoring the loud clatter it created, he fell face first onto the enormous bed. His body sank into the soft mattress, silk sheets surrounding him. It felt nice, but so wrong. Even after years of sleeping in it, the bed felt foreign. He missed the bed back in his parent’s estate.

It had been small and old but was wonderful. It felt like home to him with its decades old quilts. But it was gone now.

He rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. He wished he were anywhere but here. Anywhere but in this damned palace married to a man he did not not love nor want to associate with. He regretted ever accepting the invite to join the selection, for even considering the invite. He regretted everything.

“Fuck this.”

* * *

The summer sun was beating down heavily upon Dream, and he absolutely hated it. He lived in an empire named The Antarctic Empire and yet the summers were fucking unbearable. It was fucking ridiculous just how hot it was. You’d think since he’s lived here his entire life, he’d be used to it. That was not the case, not the case at fucking all. He felt like he was melting under the summer sun. Having to work in the fields wasn’t helping his case either. His shirt was soaked in sweat and was sticking tightly to his body. It felt like someone had slathered his body in honey. It was fucking horrible, but would could he do? They paid him to work in the fields, not stand around in the shade.

He let out a sigh before leaning against his hoe. Working since before dawn break really took a lot out of a person. Add in the heat and it was just unbearable. What made it a little more bearable was listening to the sounds of other workers around him, speaking or singing. It was a peaceful environment.

“Ay, Dreamie boy! Stand sharp, the peacocks are coming!”

Dream’s body stiffened before standing up straight, bringing his hoe down heavily into the hard dirt. He heard everyone else do the same. The air was tense, no sounds of conversation or singing at all.

“You lazy fucks! Why isn’t the wheat planted yet? Why are you all still hoeing the fucking ground? You! Come over here!”

Dream watched as a young woman was pointed at, her eyes filling with fear almost instantly. He and every other worker knew what was coming next, why wouldn’t they? This was a common occurrence while working for nobles. The damn bastards didn’t understand that they couldn’t magically hoe acres upon acres of farmland. Even with the amount of workers they had, it was impossible to finish in such little time. The time needed to hoe the entirety of land was a week at most. There was no way they could finish in a mere day. It just wasn’t possible.

But of course, the nobles didn’t think of that. Profit and prestige were all that went through their peanut sized brains.

“You! Why isn’t the land hoed?”

The young woman trembled as she stood before the nobleman. Fear was consuming her like all the ones before her.

“I-I don’t know, sir. Probably b-because we’re all incompetents.”

The nobleman snorted before snapping his fingers. Knights bearing the house’s symbol grabbed a hold of the young woman’s arms and began dragging her off. The woman was kicking and screaming, tears cascading down her dirty face. Dream looked away, not wanting to see what he knew was going to happen. He saw many do the same.

“Get to work! I better see this land hoed before the end of the day or you're all getting 10 strokes!”

And he left. His tailcoat flaring out behind him like a peacock showing off. They all watched him leave, glaring at his disappearing figure. The jewels dangling off of him, capturing the attention of all, anger in their stares.

As soon as he left, the other workers stopped working. They stood in silence, listening. Not even a few seconds passed before loud screams of pain rang through the air. The screams were chilling to the bone, you could hear how much pain the woman was in. How scared she was. His grip on the hoe tightened as he listened. Her screams just increased in volume and emotion.

He wished he could help her, free her from the clutches of that despicable noble. But he couldn’t. If he even made eye contact with the noble, he’d have his hide tanned and job stripped. That couldn’t happen. He had a sister to take care of, an estate to protect, debt collectors to pay, people to repay. He couldn’t lose his job, nor could he have his body tarnished. His parents had instilled in him the precious advice to keep his body unblemished. Imperfections were weaknesses that any ill-intentioned person could use against you. A marriage could be ruined if it was found out someone hid imperfections. Imperfections showcased to everyone your position in the world. Scars were for the poor was how it went in this damned empire.

Everything was so fucked up in this empire, but wasn’t every other empire the same? He’d heard of tales from other workers about how it was actually worse in other empires for workers. How he should be grateful that Emperor Technoblade was such a great ruler.

He scoffed at his thoughts and went back to work, ignoring the continued screams. He couldn’t do anything for the woman. Listening to her screams would do no good for any of them. It’d only cause harm to him.

He heard this every day; it was nothing new. He pointedly ignored the way his heart ached for her.

*****

The sun had long set when his work ended for the day. Unlike what the peacock had said, no one received strokes. The man had most likely either forgotten or just didn’t want to bother with the “vermin” any more for the day. He was glad. He had survived another day in that hellhole. Even if his heart was scarred from seeing the woman as he exited the estate. She had been unresponsive on the ground outside the estate’s gates with dried blood staining the ground and herself. No one bothered to help her. Why would they? Even if she received help, she was too far over the line of life and death. She was destined to die.

It didn’t help that he would most likely be punished for helping her. While everyone acted friendly with each other, they would immediately betray someone to get a higher wage or a crumb of favoritism. Dream wasn’t foolish enough to believe the other workers wouldn’t give him up in seconds if he did help her. He couldn’t say that he wouldn’t do the same either. While he did care for the others, a higher wage would mean a possible better life for his sister and him.

And he would do anything for her.

But it infuriated him that everyone would leave someone to die, not because they found pleasure in it but because they had to. It was so fucking disgusting that this is what people had to do to make it by in life.

Be grateful to be under that fucking pig’s rule. What a fucking joke.

“Dreamie boy, shouldn’t you be heading off now? The markets are going to close and I don’t think you want to have to visit the night market considering the ruffians that reside there.”

Dream turned his head to see an elderly woman looking at him kindly. It was one of his parent’s friends. He smiled at her before nodding.

“Thank you for reminding me, miss. I hope you have a fine evening. Til tomorrow.”

He waved at her before dragging his sore body into a sprint. The old woman was right about the night market being highly populated with “ruffians” but that’s exactly what he wanted. With the amount of ruffians there were, the more he could use as cover when he picked someone during his second job.

Yes, Dream robbed people while they paid for their groceries or random nick nacks. He only stole from the people dressed in fine clothes, however. Stealing from someone just as worse off like himself didn’t sit right with him. Why would it? He remembered vividly the shame he felt when he realized someone had taken his wallet right before he was to pay. It had been a horrible experience. Not only was he laughed at and mocked, he had to go home that day with nothing. His sister and he had gone with little food that week because of the person who had taken his wallet.

He didn’t resent them. Why would he? Not only would it be hypocritical of him but, also he understood why they had done it. Going without eating was difficult. Not only did it affect you physically but also mentally. Wondering when the next time you would eat be, or if you would even be alive the next day.

The wallet stealing had also been a lesson in hiding his wallet in a hard to reach place.

God, who would’ve thought this was where he would end up? Dream, the grandson of a Baron, living life as an orphan and near the street’s corner with all the homeless. He remembered how his grandparents had told him he was to do great things when he was older. He wondered how they would react if they found out where he was now.

Dream laughed. They were probably rolling around in their graves, clawing at the caskets to come strangle him. He wondered if they would stop their act of violence if he told them how he was fending off the greedy vultures from taking the family estate. Maybe they would go back to strangling him if he told them how much debt their relatives had racked up for them to get them to give up the estate.

The thought was entertaining, but wishful thinking. The dead could not come back to life, no matter how badly he wished they did.

“Life fucking sucks.”

* * *

“Your highness, wake up. The Archduke’s spouse is requesting to speak with you.”

Dream’s eyes fluttered open, and he held in the groan threatening to escape him. He didn’t need more rumors floating around the palace of how “unfitting” he was to be Empress. He already had enough of those as it was.

He sat up and waved a hand at the servant, a man with greying hair.

“Allow her in.”

He watched the servant leave and sighed. Another stuck-up bitch to deal with. How utterly riveting.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took longer to write as I was working on a Mafia AU but here it is. I don't really like it so I may rewrite it in a while. Enjoy.

Nobles requesting to speak with him wasn’t a rare occurrence, it was actually quite common. If a day went by without someone requesting to speak with him, it raised suspicion within him. Why? Because the nobles couldn’t keep their mouths shut for anything. They always had something to say to him. Be it useless chit chat or serious diplomatic issues. He could already guess what this woman wanted. She wouldn’t visit him if it wasn’t for one particular reason, she’d showcased that in his very early days as Empress.

He sighed before sliding off the bed, making his way to the highly decorated table in the middle of the room. He hadn’t bothered to put on shoes, why would he? Not only could no one see his socked feet but, he was in his own room. There was no fucking way he was going to put shoes on for some noble either. So there he sat, waiting in silk socks for the Archduchess to enter.

Seconds ticked by until the sound of the door being pushed open echoed through the quiet room. The sounds of a haughty woman and her ladies-in-waiting walking to his table followed soon after. He closed his eyes and waited for the greeting that was to come.

“Empress Dream, it is a pleasure to see you well after all this time. I heard that you’re under house arrest once again, if I may ask, what have you done this time?”

And there it was. He raised a hand up and snapped. Sounds of a servant rushing over went ignored by him as he turned his head to the Archduchess, eyes opening. Emerald green met with a fiery cinnamon, the two clashing against one another. One a lion looking upon a challenger in its territory and the other a snake grinning down at the lion with its power hungry eyes.

“Pleasure to see you as well, Archduchess. You’re looking as beautiful as ever. As for your question, it isn’t house arrest. My dear husband has decided that he will take it upon himself to deal with the outside duties while I deal with the inside ones. As you know, the Nether Prince is arriving today for a diplomatic meeting and my husband will negotiate with him while I sign and look over the Empire’s documents. Where did you hear of this house arrest, hm?”

A faint movement of her sleeves alerted him to the clenching of her fists. He inwardly smirked at the reaction. The woman couldn’t stand that he held the title of Empress. Because of this, she would go against him at any opportunity. Hearing him call that bastard “dear husband,” must have infuriated her, and that thought alone made his eyes flash in triumph. The two of them hated each other’s guts. The hatred she felt for him was reciprocated by him along with any other feeling she felt toward him. Disgust, anger, any dark emotion. The two were enemies. She had made that clear the second he stepped foot into the palace. Not like he had any complaints against it. He didn’t even want to pretend to be friendly with the bitch. Out in public, they would only thinly veil this hate for one another to keep the wives from speaking, but in the time where they were among other nobles, the hate they harbored wasn’t veiled. It was out on full display for the nobility to see.

Now, Dream’s hatred for her wasn’t unfounded like hers was for him. From what Dream had seen and experienced, she was absolutely despicable. Back in the Selection days, she had harassed him endlessly. He had become her target because of his status as essentially a “beggar”. Because of this she had spread rumors about him to any who would listen, fueling the raging inferno of hatred and disdain for him. The rumors spanned from prostitution to murder. She had tried to tarnish his reputation to the point of irreparability. Because of this, the other contestants had treated him as if he had killed their entire families. The number of nights he had spent awake, replaying the words of those vile people, were too many to count. That period of his life was one of the worst. Even now, years later, he still thought that. And he was married to a bastard of a man, for fuck’s sake. He wasn’t lying when he said that those days were fucking horrible. They were so horrible that he wouldn’t wish them upon any of his enemies. Not even the woman before him. And that was saying something considering his hatred for her.

He looked at her and felt nothing but disgust. Her face was heavily plastered with make-up, making her look like some damn jester. The image would’ve been funny had she not decided to open her mouth.

“From the peasants, of course. You know how they are with their gossiping. But, your highness aren’t you going to offer me a seat? It’s only right for the host to pull the chair of the guest out for them.”

Fucking bitch-

He smiled at her before standing up, towering over her. Watching her have to look up at him almost made him burst into laughter, his anger diminishing slightly. Her eyes filled with anger and he only continued smiling, finding her anger amusing and satisfying. He tore his eyes away before pulling out a chair across from his own.

“Ah, excuse my rudeness. I thought that someone like you could do it on your own, pardon me for my assumptions Archduchess. I’ll remember this for your next visit. Please, take a seat.”

He waved his hand at the chair, watching as the woman’s face battled with itself to not contort into a vile expression. The annoyance from earlier dwindled to nothing as her face remained that way even when she sat down. Oh, how uplifting it was to see the bitch try to mask her anger. They both knew what would happen if she began insulting him. She would be punished severely. The walls had ears, and they loved to tell the secrets behind hidden doors. This was perhaps one pro of holding the title of Empress. The nobles who were the vilest of the vilest had to bow their heads to him and follow his orders unless they wanted to lose their status.

“Why thank you, Empress. Your kindness is astounding.”

He hummed before sitting back down, a cup of warm tea being placed before him. He held back the grimace at having to drink the damn thing. He looked up from the cup, flashing a practiced smile at the Archduchess. He lifted the small cup up, bringing it to his lips gently. He felt his eye twitch at the rancid taste of the tea. As expected, it tasted just as disgusting as the person in front of him. Tea always tasted better with good company. Sadly, he was drinking it with trash. How disappointing. He quite liked tea.

Glancing up for a second, he saw the Archduchess scanning the room. He sighed internally before placing the cup down. He knew what she wanted, and he did not want to deal with it. It was better to get this over with quickly to avoid that. Clearing his throat, he waited for the Archduchess to look at him before speaking.

“Archduchess, if I may ask, what are you doing here? It must be important, as you didn’t notify me beforehand.”

The Archduchess looked at him with a triumphant sparkle in her eyes before snapping her fingers, much like he had done earlier. A servant that reminded him of a stick rushed to her side, producing a well-crafted jewelry box along with a letter from his pocket. She waved her jewel covered fingers; the servant walking up to Dream on what he could only assume was forceful steps. His steps looked as if he were forcing himself to walk up to him. Dream felt anger bubble up within him as he looked upon the servant. A man who was thin to the bone, working for a noble when he couldn’t even fucking walk. His heart ached for the man and his soul burned brightly in anger at the Archduchess.

With careful hands, he took the two objects from the servant. He tapped the man’s bony hand, getting him to look up. As he locked eyes with him, his breath caught. In this man’s eyes, he saw himself. Not his current self, but his past self. A man trying to make a living in this cruel world, giving up anything he had to just to survive for one more day. He tapped the man’s hand again and subtly motioned for him to stand with his own servant. The man seemed to get his message and bowed his head before retreating. Dream looked away from him and at the Archduchess. She wasn’t even looking at him, but at her nails.

“I came to give you these. A jewelry box made by the artisans of the End and a list of preparations necessary for the Emperor’s birthday celebration.”

And there it was. The only reason she dared to come to his chambers.

“Your thoughtfulness is admirable, Archduchess. However, I have already started preparations for His Majesty’s birthday.”

That was a lie. He had forgotten about that bastard’s birthday. But he couldn’t pass up the chance to make the vile woman angry that she couldn’t try to make him seem like some inept Empress in front of the many nobles that would be attending. He would have to be insane to pass it up.

“Oh? Really?”

Dream hummed before picking up the small teacup, sipping the already cooling liquid. He glanced at the Archduchess’s face and almost burst out laughing at the sight. Through the many layers of make-up, he could see a vein threatening to explode. The woman was so angry that not even her make-up could hide it.

“Yes, really. I’ve realised that I’ve put too much pressure on your shoulders by having you plan it every year since my ascension to the throne. From now on, I will do the planning along with any other celebration planning.”

The Archduchess glared at him, her face twisted into a snarl. The snake was baring its poisonous fangs at the lion.

“I will also take on the performing duties starting today.”

He watched as the Archduchess stood up and slammed her hands down on the table, the tea in her cup jumping up at the action. He willed his face to remain passive. He couldn’t show her his plan, not yet at least. Nor could he show her the trap she was walking into.

“What game are you playing, Empress? You taking on performing duties? Don’t make me laugh! I can accept you taking over the planning for grand events, but I will not allow you to take over the performing duties. Those are my daughter’s duties, not yours.”

Dream met her hate-filled eyes and shook his head.

“I think it’s time you leave, Archduchess. We can pick up this conversation when you aren’t acting in such an unsightly manner. See her out, will you?”

The servant behind him nodded at his request before walking up to the Archduchess and leading her away. He could see the way her thin hands formed into fists, her sharp nails digging into her palms. He saw the man from earlier follow behind her, an obvious bulge in his pocket. He smiled at that and sat patiently for the doors to shut. As soon as they did, he began laughing. Oh, did it feel good to piss her off! It really was such a pleasure to get the upper hand over her, knowing she could do nothing but accept her defeat.

The lion had won.

Minutes passed before Dream’s laughter subsided, realization dawning on what he had agreed to do. He had just agreed to planning that bastard’s birthday, hadn’t he? He sat there in silence before letting his head fall into his hand, groaning loudly.

“God fucking dammit!”

* * *

It was the Emperor’s birthday today. The one day where all would receive a day off from work to celebrate his majesty’s day of birth. Not even the other important holidays resulted in a day off, it was only the Emperor’s birthday that yielded such a result. It was fucking stupid if he was being honest. His one day off in the entire year and it was to celebrate some bastard Emperor’s birthday? It was such a waste of a day off. In his opinion, there wasn’t a reason to celebrate it. It’s not like the Emperor even noticed the celebration the citizens threw for him. The man didn’t even bother coming out of his palace to even see what the citizens offered for his birthday. Not a single glance or peek.

People born in high status would only interact with those of high status. The ones at the bottom of the hierarchy would not get even a glance. No matter how outstanding they were, compared to nobles, they were nothing but dirt. That was the unspoken code in this world, especially here in this godforsaken Empire.

He sighed, rubbing his face with both his hands before looking upon the world around him. Crowds of people passed him by, many having children with them. It was normal for citizens and travelers to crowd the capital on this day, roaming around enjoying the festivities to the best of their abilities. Be it by buying the lower priced food or admiring the ribbons and streamers donning the Empire’s emblem and the Emperor’s mark that were strung everywhere the eye could see. It could even be to see the beautiful lanterns hanging off of the buildings. Their flames lit even with the sun high in the sky. The lanterns were one of the jewels of the Empire, something that had been as such since the Previous Emperor’s reign.

If he was being honest, the lanterns were probably his favorite part of this stupid celebration. He associated the lanterns with memories of his deceased parents and grandparents. Memories of joy and innocence that to this day he held close to his heart. A smile stretched across his face as he recalled those times, his heart filling with happiness.

“Dream!”

Dream’s head snapped upwards at the call of his name, his journey down memory lane being disrupted. As he looked around to see who had called him, he spotted a small girl waving excitedly at him. The smile across his face turned into a large grin as he looked upon her. He softly chuckled before waving back, the small girl bounding towards him. As she neared him, he noticed a small lantern in her arms.

“Dream! Look, look, look! They have lanterns!”

Dream’s smile softened at his sister’s exclamation. Even after seeing the lanterns every year, she still kept that joyous excitement. It made his weary heart fill with a warmth he had thought was long gone. The warmth only grew as he felt his sister tug on his sleeve, glaring up at him.

“Dream! Come on! I wanna see the big lanterns up close!”

Soft chuckles cascaded from his throat as he allowed his sister to pull him in whatever direction she wished.

“Alright, let’s go see the lanterns.”

A loud cheer of excitement escaped his sister as soon as he said those words, her small hand coming to hold his own much larger one. He smiled as she began swinging their linked arms back and forth. An unconscious habit she’d do whenever she was brimming with excitement. He huffed a laugh at her behavior before picking her up, laughing at her squeal of surprise. He sat her down on his shoulders, making sure she was holding onto him tightly before walking.

“Where did you see the lanterns, Drista?”

“In the plaza! Miss Baker showed me them and gave me this one!”

She waved the small lantern excitedly as she spoke to him. He walked them through the crowds of people as quickly as he could, his sister bouncing excitedly on his shoulders as she babbled on about how pretty the lanterns were. He only smiled as he listened vaguely.

This was why he kept living, fighting against the world. It was all to see his dear sister smile, to see her smiling so brightly and running around without a worry. It was all for her, and he would do anything for her if it meant she would continue smiling.

*****

“Dream! I don’t want to go to bed! I want to watch the lanterns!”

Dream shook his head in mock frustration as his sister crossed her small chubby arms, a large pout on her face. He found it adorable how she couldn’t look mad without looking absolutely adorable. He brought a hand to her, laughing as she not so subtly nuzzled into it. Once he could see her getting comfortable, he pinched the chubby cheek, earning a loud cry of exaggerated pain. A fond smile crossed his face as her eyes filled with crocodile tears.

“You know you can’t. You have to be at the tutor’s house tomorrow bright and early or she’ll get mad again. Now, off you go.”

She swatted his hand away before shaking her head furiously, her hair bouncing as she did.

“No! I wanna see the lanterns!”

Dream pinched her cheek again, looking at her pointedly as she winced.

“I’ll read you a story if you go to bed.”

Almost immediately, the small girl nodded and scampered off to her bed. He watched as she threw herself onto the bed, scurrying under the covers. Laughter bubbled in his chest as her head popped out from underneath the blanket, eyes demanding him to come over. He shook his head with a smile on his face and made his way over to her bed. As he sat on the edge of the bed, he smiled softly at her before looking forward. Searching for anything to use as inspiration for a story. Soon enough, his eyes focused on a swaying branch outside, a story forming in his mind.

“Are you ready?”

He heard some shuffling before a small hum echoed throughout the room.

“Alright, this is the story of The Moth and The Bird. Once upon a time, there lived a small moth…”

*****

“...and they lived happily ever after.”

Dream looked away from the window, turning his head to see his sister’s already closed eyes. A chuckle almost escaped him as he stood up and tucked the blanket under her chin. She shifted a little, snuggling into the thick blanket more. He smiled and leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead before turning to leave. He had only taken a few steps away when he heard the snoring begin. He placed a hand over his mouth to stifle the laughter threatening to escape. Of course his sister would start snoring. It was adorable. He let out a small breath of air, creating a huffing sound as he walked the final distance to the door. Looking back for a few seconds to see his sister snoring away, oblivious to the world around her. A smile graced his face before he shut the door behind him.

It was about time he went to bed as well. He had to work in the fields after all, and he’d rather not fall asleep standing. He laughed at the thought before making his way to his room. His room wasn’t far from his sister’s, it was actually only a few hallways away. Not a long way away. Which meant it left him to his thoughts for a small while.

As he walked through the silent moonlit hallway, a certain feeling bubbled within him. The feeling made the world seem grey and cold, filling his body with the urge to cry. Sadness.

The halls used to be filled with the sounds of the sleeping and the lingering warmth of people. Now they were empty, causing him to remember times where all was still happy, and the world wasn’t so grey. Times where he used to feel his father’s large arms wrap around his waist and the feeling of being rocked to sleep by the fireplace. The calming motions and presence of his father as he sat there silently, holding him as if he were some precious jewel.

Other memories of his father surfaced as he continued walking. His father teaching him how to play the harp, his father chasing after him trying to skip out on lessons, his father teaching him how to hold himself like a noble, his father reading him stories when he couldn’t sleep. They were memories Dream cherished. He held these memories close to his heart, molding them into his primary source of support on nights where he felt like giving up even with his promise to keep his sister smiling. His father had been his pillar of support when he was alive and he still held that role even now, four years after his death.

A small sniff brought Dream from his thoughts, and he noticed the way his eyes stung. Oh. He was about to cry. He brought a tanned hand to his face, wiping harshly at his teary eyes. That seemed to only bring about the red hot tears as memories of his mother wiping away his tears appeared at the forefront of his mind. He had never been an obedient child, quite the opposite. He got himself into a lot of situations that almost always ended up with him bleeding. He’d always cry at the pain, but his mother would comfort him, holding him tightly as he cried his small heart out. Her silk sleeves coming to wipe his tears away, ignoring the way her sleeves became soaked in his tears. While his father had been his pillar, his mother had been the roof over his head. Both had been important figures in his life, and their deaths, their deaths, had struck him where it hurt most.

Even now, he was still grieving for them. Grieving when he was alone on quiet nights like tonight. Crying until he fell asleep, then waking up the next day as if his eyes weren’t streaked red. As if his heart weren’t bleeding out within his chest.

He brought a hand over his mouth, attempting to stifle the sobs by biting into his palm. Hot tears slid down his cheeks, making their way over his hand and dripping to the carpeted floor below. The soft sounds his tears made as they hit the floor were so loud to his ears in this barren hallway. He was alone. He was so very alone. Not a sound could be heard besides his pathetic crying, not even his sister’s soft snoring could be heard. The aching loneliness was gnawing away at the inner workings of his heart, cutting away at the pillars of support he’d built for himself.

Dream had never been one for being alone. How could he ever be? Throughout his childhood, servants and nobles alike surrounded him. The place he called home was always filled with life, be it night or day, never empty. But now, now it was silent. It only had one other resident that wasn’t himself, and it killed him inside. It was a cruel reminder of what was now gone. A reminder to what he had to protect if he didn’t want the home to only have himself inside.

He clenched at his shirt tightly, his teeth biting down harshly on his other hand. The tears, red hot as they cascaded down in waterfalls as he stood there. When had he stopped moving? He didn’t know. All he knew was that everything hurt. Everything looked so grey to his eyes, felt so grey to his hands, sounded so grey to his ears. The blood pooling into his mouth didn’t even taste of that iron venom, but like a goblet of ashes, parching his throat to the point of him wanting to scratch at it until it bled. He felt his throat close up, breathing becoming difficult as he continued sobbing. It was like he was drowning. The world around him seemed more and more like the bottom of a lake that he couldn’t swim out of. Each time he tried to swim to the surface, the ghosts of his heart would drag him back down, whispering all that he had lost.

He wanted his parents. He wanted to feel their arms around him as they pulled him up from the water’s clutches. He wanted to hear their voices so badly, his heart ached to hear them again. But it didn’t matter what he wanted. Because no matter how many times he cried to have his life return to what it once was, nothing would change. His life from before was gone the second his parents had died and left him and his sister to fend for themselves in this cruel world.

“Mom. Dad. Please.”

But as he fell to his knees, his head bowing over his legs, body wracked with sobs, he couldn’t help but to cry for them. He was only fifteen after all; he was still a child. A child who had to grow up fast to survive in a cruel world that wanted nothing but to hurt him. A child who had lost his parents. A child who had someone to protect.

“Come back.”

And like every other time he cried out for his parents, there was no answer.

“Please. I’m so scared.”

* * *

“Your Majesty, your dinner is here.”

Dream looked up from the pile of papers before him and beckoned in the servant forward. He placed the quill in his hand down, capping the small ink pot and carefully pushing them aside. He watched as the servant walked toward him with a silver tray, occupied only by a white steaming bowl. As the servant approached, the smell of meat became pungent. Curious, Dream sniffed the air, trying to discern what type of meat was inside. It smelled like beef, but that was impossible. There weren’t any cows anywhere in the Antarctic Empire ever since the massacre of the bastard’s cattle. He’d been so upset that he had every cow slaughtered and the perpetrator violently murdered.

Dream felt his hair stand on end at the memory of that day. It was one of the few times where Dream had felt actual fear at Technoblade’s presence. The man had stood there silently, staring at the mutilated corpses of his cattle. Not even batting an eye at the stench of blood and death that wafted from the entire area. The man had seemed different that day. More untouchable. As if he were a god. And like a god, he had shown no mercy for those who went against him; he had strung the bodies of the men up around the city, blood and guts dripping to the ground below. Their faces had been unrecognizable, it looked like some starving beast had torn into it. The people speculated that the bastard had his prized wolves feast on their faces but, Dream knew better than to think that. The man was too vengeful to not inflict the pain himself.

Dream felt his stomach twist itself into knots as he shivered.

“Here you are, Your Highness. Beef mushroom stew with a secret ingredient.”

Dream flinched slightly, his thought process vanishing as the bowl was placed before him. So it was beef. But how? He looked up at the servant, picking up his spoon.

“Beef? Where did the chef’s get beef from? There has been no cattle in these parts for 2 years now.”

Dream dipped the spoon into the stew, bringing the spoonful to his mouth. Dream blinked in surprise at the taste. It tasted like nothing he had ever eaten before. It was delicious. Dream would have to thank the chefs after the bastard let him out.

“The beef is from the Emperor, His Majesty went out earlier with the generals to retrieve it.”

Dream nodded before dipping his spoon into the stew for more. It truly was delicious.

“Mn, speaking of the Emperor. Has he sent a message for me?”

“He has, Your Majesty. Would you like me to recite it?”

Dream shook his head, putting the spoon down to look at the servant properly. A brown-haired man with glasses. He seemed to be older than Dream, which wasn’t a surprise considering that he had become Empress at such a young age. He seemed like a nice man.

“Not yet. Let me finish dining, then I’ll hear His Majesty’s message. For now, you may attend to whatever other duties you have.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Dream waved him off, returning his attention to his stew. He’d rather finish his food before listening to whatever bullshit that bastard had said. It was probably something to do with Dream submitting to him. Listening to such a message wasn’t something he wanted to hear while eating, it would only sour the stew. The stew was great as well, it’d be such a shame if it went to waste like those cranberry delicacies from earlier. Because unlike those delicacies, he could actually eat this stew.

With a small smile, Dream continued eating, not noticing the small red bits floating around in the stew with the mushrooms.

* * *

It was the morning after the Emperor’s birthday, and Dream was so tired. He hadn’t slept at all, his mind refusing to leave him alone. If he closed his eyes, the memory of his parents' funeral came to the forefront of his mind, driving him to tears once again. He hadn’t even made it to his room until very late when he decided to drag himself to bed. Crying where his sister could see him wasn’t something he wanted, even in his pitiful state.

He let out a small huff, shaking his head to dispel the memories. He couldn’t think about them right now. He had work, and he’d rather not get whipped for arriving late. With that thought, he picked up his pace, ignoring how the surrounding people spoke in whispers. Their voices hushed but carrying an excited undertone. Even if he paid attention to them, he wouldn’t be able to hear them from how muffled their words already were. It was probably some lady gossip that had gotten out of control. The old women enjoyed gossiping to each other. They enjoyed spreading lies to others even more. It really wasn’t a good idea to even pay them any mind.

With that thought, he hurried off to work, missing the line of ladies forming outside the dressmaker’s shop.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so thank you to the people who leave comments. It makes me really happy to read them. I'm sorry that I don't respond, I'm too awkward and scared of revealing some key points of the story if I respond ;; Also this has gotten more attention then I thought it would so thank you for that. Moving on.
> 
> I'd like to talk about the separations between past in present in this story. The characters will have different opinions depending on past or present hence why Dream's on the fence somewhat of hating the Emperor. Opinions change with time as will Dream's along with you know who. 
> 
> Another thing is the first part of this chapter. I'd like to explain it. It's not some disorder or anything. The topic will be brought up throughout the story as it progresses so I'd like to avoid revealing too much. That's it for now, enjoy.

The sound of silver utensils hitting glass rang through the Dream’s room. The sounds of a napkin being used followed soon after. It was quite telling of how Dream lived his life in the palace. Folding the napkin and placing it on his plate, Dream rubbed at his neck. Not once had someone besides nobles wanting something from him come to visit. It was pathetic, really, how Dream lived. He had everything any of the poorer folks could ever dream of but; he wasn’t happy. He really wasn’t. He lived his life pretending to like the nobles and dealing with royal affairs, married to some man who couldn’t give two shits about him. His life was lifeless and restricting. But he had chosen this route, meaning he would have to push aside his feelings and continue on as if they didn’t exist or matter.

A sigh escaped Dream as he continued rubbing his neck, staring at his reflection in the small spoon resting against his bowl. The reflection was blurry, distorted. Just like what his life currently was. On the outside he seemed like a poorer folk who had risen from the bottom of the rankings and achieved everything all desired to but his life was the opposite. He was chained to the palace, forced to live a restricted life where he couldn’t leave his room if the Emperor declared so. He ate little; he slept less; he worked more; he lost parts of himself more; he had to fight continuously against a man who wanted him to submit. To get the perfect image of one who had it all, they’d twisted and pulled him into a perfect image.

His mind plagued by the haunting memories of that distortion. While the distortion had left no physical marks, he could see what it left each time he looked in the mirror. The grotesque body they made him into for the perfect Empress image. He looked away from the spoon, not wanting to see himself anymore. His own appearance terrified him, it reminded him of what he no longer was.

Dream rubbed at his neck more feeling the damn thing itch and burn. An annoyed noise escaped him as he went to pull the collar of his dress down. He despised these types of dresses, they always irritated his neck to no end. Thinking of the dress made him squirm in discomfort as he felt the tightly wrapped corset on his torso. Corsets were always a pain to wear. They were completely useless as well. For a male, he had a rather small waist. A waist that didn’t need some fucking corset, but unfortunately, he had to well one for appearances or some shit. He didn’t understand why, however. What was so appealing of seeing someone struggling to breathe?

Now that he thought about it, his breaths were coming out shortly.

“Goddamn corsets.”

He stood up, wanting to loosen the corset some, but froze as his hand came into view. His eyes fluttered open and closed as he saw a nasty looking red staining the skin of his hand. Slowly, he lifted his hand up to eye level, turning it around. It looked like he’d splashed it with scalding water, small angry bumps littered about. He looked at it for a while longer before grabbing his sleeve and pulling it up. As soon as his eyes landed on his now exposed arm, it was like someone dumped cold water on him. Angry red bumps covered the entirety of his exposed arm. Some were large, others small but ugly. He stood there, staring in disbelief for a while longer before an almost burning prickle shot through him. It was begging him to run his nails across the skin till the bumps went away, till the sudden itchiness disappeared.

He grabbed his hand before he could, eyes widening as he saw his other hand in a similar state. In hurried steps, Dream forced himself to run to the mirror hanging next to his bed. A dark green cloth covered the mirror, hung there by himself years prior. He raised a hand up and pulled the cloth away, revealing his appearance.

A gasp escaped him as he saw himself. Red. His neck was red along with patches of his faces. He looked dreadful, as if a swarm of bees had stung him. His entire face seemed to be swollen. He cringed at his appearance before a thought struck him. What about his chest?

In hurried movements, Dream slid his dress and corset as far as they would go. Horror overtook him as he saw how red his chest had become. He could already tell that if he pulled his clothes further down, he’d see even more red. He stepped away from the mirror, not being able to do anything but that for a few moments.

There was only one thing that would cause him to become this way. Fucking cranberries. Someone had fed him cranberries. The thought threw Dream into a panic as he began calling for the guards.

“Guards! Guards! Get the man who brought me dinner in here immediately and call the Imperial Doctor!”

Dream heard heavy footsteps as his panicked voice echoed loudly. The sound of his door being pushed open echoed loudly as a guard peered in. The man’s eyes widened as he saw Dream, noticing both the redness and swelling of his body. Dream locked eyes with the man before feeling his vision swim and a wave of nausea crashing into him. It was strong enough to send him reeling to the tiles below. Almost immediately, Dream began dry heaving. Tears flooded his vision as his body shook with the amount of pain the dry heaving was causing him. He could feel his stomach twist and turn in anger, wanting to empty its content but Dreams throat wouldn’t allow it.

Dream vaguely felt the arms wrapping around him, lifting him onto something soft. His bed most likely, he didn’t know. His eyesight was blurry from the tears sliding down his face as he coughed. His shortened breath was coming out shorter along with his heart beating like a drum in his chest. His chest hurt so badly, he wanted to bring his hands to claw at it, but the hands on him were restricting him, forcing him to lie there in agony.

The coughing didn’t stop as Dream lay there; it increased instead. He could tell from how his throat burned along with his difficulty breathing that his throat had fallen to the same fate as his face. If Dream wasn’t in so much pain at the moment, he would’ve laughed. Laughing seemed to be his only coping mechanism these days, after all.

He felt his lips pull into a mocking smile as he realized how stupid he was to accept something from that bastard Emperor. The man had sent him cranberry delicacies for breakfast, for god's sake. He was such an idiot. He could come up with no excuses for his actions besides a lapse in judgement. Fucking idiot.

“Your Majesty, the servant is here along with the Imperial Doctor.”

Dream’s head turned to where the voice came from, no longer being able to see clearly.

“Message. Tell. Me.”

Dream’s words were forced from his closing throat, coming out as he gasped for air.

“His Majesty sends this message, ‘Do you submit?’”

Dream felt his body become encompassed in a burning rage at the words. That fucking bastard. He dare do this to him? The second Dream got his hands on him, he was going to strangle him with that stupid hair of his.

“Bas-”

Another wave of nausea that caused Dream to throw the hands off his body silenced his sentence, the dry heaving making him tremble. His body felt so weak.

“Your Majesty, please take this. It’ll lessen the pain that will come soon.”

Dream moved his head to the voice, feeling something cold being pressed to his lips. Something metal, a cup. He tried opening his mouth to no avail; it was glued shut. He heard someone sigh before the voice spoke again.

“Please forgive me, Your Majesty.”

Dream was confused for a second before he felt something snake around his neck. On instinct Dream began clawing at whatever was around his neck, trying to breathe. It was of no use, however. His already oxygen deprived body sagged into whoever was holding him even as his mind continued to fight for consciousness and control. The world became darker by the second before Dream could see nothing. As his brain continued shutting off, he faintly heard people scurrying about along with voices shouting.

As Dream’s mind finally slipped into unconsciousness, he wondered if he would wake up.

* * *

Dream brought a hand up to his head, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He’d been out in the fields for a while now, the sun his only consistent companion throughout his work. The ball of heat had been beating down on him since he picked up his hoe.

He’d arrived later than he usually would because of the amount of people in the streets blocking his way. That damn peacock had given him a scathing look the second he stepped foot onto the estate grounds. That look alone made Dream want to ram the hoe into his dick and watch as the man crumpled to the ground in pain. But of course, Dream could only fantasize about that. Even making eye contact for too long would get him whipped, much less laying a hand on “the pristine body”. Dream snorted at that. Pristine body, his ass.

A sigh escaped his mouth as he brought the hoe into the rich dirt below, a hand reaching into the bag hanging off his shoulder to mark the planting spots for the planters. He was lucky he hadn’t been assigned to the planter job, even if hoeing the ground was tough work, especially with the summer sun. The planter job would mean he would have to do inside work, which was something Dream wanted to avoid at all costs. He was no fool to think that inside work would be better than outside work. He knew what happened to the ones who had the misfortune of being assigned inside work.

He had seen the limps and blood their bodies sported when they came to plant the seeds. Only an idiot would be unable to understand what went on in that fucking house.

Dream ran a hand through his hair as he quickly scanned his surroundings. Everyone seemed to be full of energy today, working and talking at the same time. From what he could hear, they were excited about something. What that something was, he didn’t know. He didn’t think he wanted to know either.

Another sigh escaped him before he went back to work, his hoe coming down in front of him before reaching into the bag and placing down markers on the newly hoed soil, rinse and repeat. 'Tis the life of a worker. An endless loop of the same energy draining task. He shrugged before licking his cracked lips. At least he got paid to do it.

*****

The sun was lowering itself into sunset when Dream was finished with work. He raised his hands above his head as he walked out of the estate grounds with the rest of the workers, his tired back popping into place. He’d been let out earlier than usual, meaning he could actually pick up his sister from the tutor’s house. It made him bounce with joy as he walked. While it would seem meaningless too many, picking up his sister from the tutor’s house was important to Dream, as it reminded him of the days before this all. Days where his parents would send him off to collect his sister from the tutor’s and the two would play with each other as they walked home to the arms of their smiling parents. While that was no longer be the case, it was nice to have the past in his life, even if it was a cheap mockery of it.

Dream smiled softly as he thought of what his sister’s expression would be when she saw him waiting for her at the tutor’s gates. Her expression would most likely be one of shock before it morphed into one of joy. Like him, she felt immense joy when they walked home from the tutor’s. While she had been young when the two had lost the remaining of those on their side, she still vividly remembered the feelings and actions of those days. Memories of the joy and roughhousing the two did as they walked home to their parents.

It was a sweet memory that they both cherished.

As he walked to the tutor’s, Dream hummed a tune that all in the Antarctic Empire knew of. The Empire’s anthem was what it was. The song was easy to listen to and would soothe one’s soul. Quite ironic considering how violent the Empire was.

The song was one of his favorites, along with a select few, but only because of a specific reason. He smiled upon remembering why it was a favorite of his. The song had been sung to the entire Empire when he was still young and innocent by someone he could never forget. The crown prince. He remembered vividly the voice of the prince as he sang; it was as if angels were singing. His voice was melodious and allowed no interruptions. The memory of him standing in front of the people with only his father by his side, his brown hair covering an eye and the pulling on his sleeves. The prince had been so nervous at first, but as he went up to sing, that nervousness had disappeared entirely. A strong, confident voice was left in its place.

While Dream disliked most nobles, the crown prince was an exception to that. Well, had been. Dream had seen how the Crown Prince behaved when he was younger. A boy who would stop his carriage if he saw someone having difficulties. A boy who regularly visited the people to check in on their wellbeing. Dream, himself, had had the pleasure of meeting the prince on one of his visits. Unlike other high-ranking nobles, the crown prince treated him kindly, proclaiming them as friends.

Dream smiled bitterly at the memory. It was a nice memory but also a heart wrenching one for the crown prince had passed not even a week later. He, the Emperor and the youngest prince had passed in an accident that couldn’t have been prevented. The day of their deaths had been the end of an era and the start of something no one could’ve expected nor wanted. The era of their current ruler, Emperor Technoblade.

Dream’s lips twisted into a scowl, thinking of that bastard Emperor. He glared down at the tiled ground and kicked a random rock. Emperor Technoblade’s era was fucking shit. Greedy two-faced nobles ran rampant throughout the Empire, abusing their power for their own benefits, not caring who they hurt. After all, the ones below them in the ranking system were nothing but dirt in their eyes. Dream was thankful his parents had been actually good people. They had raised him with children who had no status besides Commoner, teaching him to view everyone as humans and not as some disposable pawns.

If only the Emperor had learned from his father and brother how to not be a complete asshole.

Dream snorted at the thought. He would bet his estate that Emperor Technoblade would be no different, even if his father and brothers lived. The man was nothing but an uncaring ruler. A failure of an Emperor. His people were suffering, and he did nothing but sit prettily on his throne, turning a blind eye to it all. It pissed him off just thinking of the Emperor and his ruling. That throne should’ve never been his, and yet he sat there as if it had always belonged to him. It pissed Dream off so much.

Dream bit his lip harshly, teeth cutting through weakened skin causing iron to dribble into his mouth. Dream was angry. At the Emperor and at himself. He knew he was justified in disliking the Emperor, but a small part of him whispered that what he was doing was wrong. He was judging someone who was his age, for fuck’s sake. Someone who had lost their family like Dream had. Someone who was most likely never taught how to rule as an Emperor and had been forced to learn it in the time of their grieving. Just like Dream had to do when his parents passed.

The Emperor and Dream were the same in some ways, and he hated that. Dream had so much to dislike about the Emperor, but those dislikes had reasons behind them. The man had to watch as his world fell to ashes before his eyes and walk forward without looking back. Just like Dream had done. The family’s ashes hadn’t cooled before life thrust additional responsibilities upon a broken child, grabbing the child by the throat and dragging them into a new beginning that was not wanted.

Dream ran a hand down his face, sweat and dirt sticking to his hand as he did so. He sounded like such an idiot. He constantly talked shit about someone who suffered the same thing as himself, calling them names when they too had been fucked over by life.

“It may give reasons to his actions but it doesn’t excuse them.”

He mumbled softly, pinching his arm in confliction. The Emperor may have a troubled past, but it didn’t fully excuse all the suffering he’d caused. It gave reason. That’s all it was. Dream ignored how the small voice in his head mocked him. If he picked up his pace and stopped humming, then that was no one’s business but his own.

* * *

Dream woke up with his lungs begging for air, his heart beating quickly in panic as he took in large gulps of air. His throat burned as cool air reached it, urging him to scratch at it until it felt better. His hands flew to do just that, but they were stopped by two thin hands. Dream looked up at the person wanting to scowl at them. He froze however as he was met with a face resembling his own.

“Don’t you dare, idiot. The doctor told me you were going to do this. Here, drink this.”

A cup was thrust in front of him, whatever was inside splashing around violently. Dream blinked owlishly before taking the small cup being held before him. Sipping the discolored liquid inside as he looked at the person before him. Golden hair, emerald green eyes, a white porcelain mask resting atop their head. His sister.

“Drista? How long was I out for?”

His sister glared at him, reaching a hand to pinch his cheek. Dream swatted her away, stopping to look at the bandages wrapped around his arms. How had he not noticed them earlier? He flexed his fingers, feeling a slight heat under the white cloth. He could already guess what was under.

“A week. You’ve been out for a week, Dream.”

A sigh escaped Dream before he reached his arms out to his sister. Almost instantly, she engulfed him in a hug. All he could feel and see was her, a sense of comfort and guilt welling up within his chest. He knew she had been worried about him, she wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t. It made him curse himself even more for being such a fucking idiot. He had let his guard slip for a second too long and look where that got him, in bed with his sister hugging him tightly as if he would disappear if she let go for a second.

“You’re such an idiot, Dream. I was so worried when that messenger came to the estate and told me to come. I was so worried when I saw the entire palace in disorder and the doctor telling me to say my goodbyes. He sounded so sure you were going to die. He argued with me when I said you would live. I’m so glad you’re alive, even if you look really ugly right now.”

The tears that had welled up in Dream’s eyes fell as he burst into laughter at his sister’s last words. Of course, she would ruin a gloomy moment. His laughter lasted only for a few seconds before body wracking coughs escaped him, his arms slipping from his sister to hold his torso. Dream felt his sister let go of him, only to pat his back as he coughed his lungs up.

As he coughed, Dream swore he could feel his body turn hollow, as if there was nothing inside him. Because of this, the coughs hurt even more as they escaped him, his body wanting to vomit. There were tears in his eyes, tears from how badly the coughs were affecting him.

“Dream? Dream, are you alright? Do I have to get the doctor?”

Dream shook his head, his coughing fit calming down.

“I’m alright. Why do I feel like such shit? This doesn’t usually happen whenever I eat cranberries.”

Dream saw his sister bite her lip before a look of anger passed through her eyes. Dream tilted his head in confusion before jumping as his sister slammed her hand onto the bedpost. He looked at her with wide eyes.

“Drista, what the fuck?”

His sister turned to look at him before bringing both hands to cup his face. He flinched as they touched him. They were cold, deathly cold against his skin. He locked eyes with her, searching for answers in those emerald eyes. He saw nothing but anger. It startled him slightly, he’d never seen his sister this angry before.

“That doctor made you eat some fucking leaves that were supposed to help, but only made you worse. He poisoned you, Dream. That’s the reason you didn’t wake up for so long. That fucker gave you some poisonous shit that gave you a high fever. The fever’s still running but not as high as before.”

Oh, so that’s why her hands felt cold. He was running a fever. He hummed in response to her, burrowing his face in her hands. It felt nice against his skin now. It felt like he was taking a cold bath on a hot summer day. It was soothing. He felt his eyelids flutter shut as he leaned his entire face in his sister’s hands. He heard her laugh a little, but he didn’t care. He didn’t get to see her often, so him indulging in her presence was justifiable. He had missed her.

“Dream, you can’t fall asleep in my hands.”

Dream cracked his eyes open slightly, lips turning downward.

“But it's comfy.”

“At least eat something before you fall asleep. You have eaten nothing proper since that poisonous shit.”

Dream groaned before lifting his head from her hands, bringing a hand to rub at his eye.

“Fine. I’ll eat.”

Dream watched as his sister’s lips stretched into a large smile, her hands coming to grip his own. She held them as if he were going to break at aunty given second. It reminded him of how he used to hold her when she fell ill. Dream would hold her tightly in their grandmother’s rocking chair, combing through her hair, whispering words when his sister squirmed in pain. He’d held her as if she were glass in fear she would break in his arms, her small body giving up with the high fever. While his sister had never been weak-bodied, Dream still worried when she became ill. She was the only one he had left, after all.

He smiled at his sister’s actions. She no longer was that small girl who he had to protect anymore, huh? It seemed the two of them had swapped places after all these years. A small huff escaped him as she let go of his hands and scurried off to the door. Even if they swapped places, she would still be his little sister. He shook his head fondly as she waved at him before running out the door, not waiting for him to wave back.

“Even after all this time, she’s still this energetic. Why am I not surprised?”

He rubbed his hands against his blanketed legs, laughing slightly with his words. He truly loved his sister, and he was grateful to her. He would probably be long dead if not for her. His one hope in this cruel world that made him fight to live another day. He didn’t know what he’d do if she disappeared from his life.

A breath of air escaped him before he went to lay back down. He’d told his sister he’d eat first, but his body was begging to rest a little more. Some shut-eye wouldn’t harm anyone. As his eyes shut, he felt his body relax into the sheets. The softness wrapping around him like a mother’s embrace, soothing him into a drowsy state.

The tentacles of sleep curled themselves around him tightly, dragging him into the depths of sleep. Dream didn’t fight them, instead willing them to hurry so he could rest. Just as he was about to fall under the surface of sleep, he heard something that made him bolt up. The sound of heeled boots hitting the tiled floor. The hair on Dream’s neck stood on end as the footsteps neared as the seconds passed. The entire palace seemed silent except for those footsteps. He knew who those belonged to.

Red hot anger burned through his veins as the footsteps ceased, only to be replaced by words he never wanted to hear. Words that made him grip onto his sheets tightly until he could feel his nails stabbing into his palms.

“His Majesty, the Emperor, is here to pay Empress Dream a visit.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early update for you all as I finished this earlier than I expected. But this also means the prologue's done. A relief for me since I've been itching to write the rest of the story. I legit have the betrayal scene written out already lol. Next update after is gonna be how Dream became the Empress so expect that. 
> 
> If anyone has any questions about this story then feel free to ask, be it the world or just some plot questions. I won't reveal much about plot if anyone does have any questions about that as I don't wanna spoil it but I will respond with a basic explanation. 
> 
> Also, here's some stories that should come out soon if I don't forget:  
> 1\. Mafia AU - Dreamnoblade, 2. Simping Cannibals - Dreamnobur, 3. Lovely Priest - Dreamnobur, 4. Parents - Dreamnoblade, 5. Yandere - Dream harem.
> 
> That's all for now, enjoy.

Dream waited with bated breath for who he knew was behind his bedroom door, anger coursing through him that almost hid the small inkling of fear in him. Almost. While Dream was angry at the Emperor, he was also fearful of him. How could he not be? The man had tried killing him. He was also a bloodthirsty tyrant. It would inspire fear within anyone. Dream was no exception. As much as Dream acted as if he wasn't afraid of the Emperor, he actually was. He had witnessed what the bastard could do if he so desired. The memories of those events never leaving him, haunting him whenever they could.

He gripped his sheets tightly, waiting silently. Seconds passed in silence, not a single thing making a sound. It put him on edge. His hands gripped tighter onto his sheets, releasing soon after before tightening again. As he waited the fear he felt started to turn into annoyance. When was he going to come in? 

Right after he thought that apparently as the door to his room was pushed open, revealing that familiar pink hair. Pink hair and the shimmering golden crown adorning it. A chiseled face that made Dream want to retch in disgust, followed by clothes that cost more than a worker’s life earnings. And of course, that goddamn cape. A cape that once was as white as the snow that came every Antarctic winter. A cape that now was stained with the spilt blood of many innocents that the Emperor wore as an emblem of pride. The fucker was proud of what he had done to the many innocent that Dream hoped were haunting him at night. After all the atrocities the Emperor had committed, Dream found it a fitting punishment.

Dream felt his annoyance rise as his eyes landed back onto the fucker’s face and saw lips pulled into a smirk. His anger and annoyance only rose further as he locked eyes with the Emperor. Satisfaction, smugness, pride. All of those and more were present in the Emperor’s eyes. Bloody crimson orbs trailing over his sitting form, lightening in glee as they saw the many bandages wrapped on exposed skin. Dream wanted to claw at his face in rage, feeling absolutely disgusting as those bloody eyes kept analyzing him. Violated as they continued trailing over his body.

This kept on for a few minutes before Dream had had enough. He gripped the bedsheet before speaking his mind. 

“What are you doing here? Come here to finish the job?”

The Emperor said nothing but eye him as if he were a mere child who was being disobedient. It pissed Dream off even more that he wanted to go up to him and choke him. While it was easy for others to forget, Dream was a male. A man who was the same height as the Emperor, besides being shorter by a mere 2 centimeters. A man who could easily rival Emperor Technoblade’s strength if he ever decided to fight with the man. 

“Is that any way to speak to your husband?”

A powerful wave of disgust rolled over Dream as he the word “husband” spilled from those vile lips, his hands digging painfully into his palms. 

“Husband? A husband does not poison their partner, nor do they act all high and mighty before them as they sit in bed weakened and sick. You are not my husband.”

Dream watched as the Emperor’s brows furrowed in what he assumed was anger before he let out a yelp of surprise as a large hand wrapped around his neck. Dream shut his eyes, waiting for the crushing strength against his airway, but there was none. All he received was a snicker that caused his eyes to fly open. Blood-red eyes crinkled in amusement, making them seem cruel and mocking to the man beneath them. Dream opened his mouth to throw an insult at the man above him before stopping as a gloved hand cupped his cheek. The soft fabric of the glove was a disgusting imitation of a lover’s caress. Fingers gently trailed over his cheek, slowly making their way over his entire face before resting on his lips. 

A gentle touch and an almost soft look in those hardened eyes caressing a face that was screwed up in disgust and anger. A spark of fire lit within Dream, prompting him to part his lips. The gloved fingers falling into his mouth. Seconds passed with the two staring into each other’s eyes, both searching for something that neither knew. 

Dream tilted his face up higher for the Emperor before lifting his lips into a soft smile. A smile that was reserved for his sister and only her, eyes crinkling in what could only be called fondness as the Emperor’s face stiffened. Dream laughed softly before bringing his teeth down harshly against the fingers in his mouth. Satisfaction clouded Dream’s mind as the Emperor’s face scrunched slightly in pain, the man retracting his hand quickly. 

Loud laughter bubbled out of Dream as the man stared at his hand as if were some plague victim. The two locked eyes again before Dream smirked up at him, defiance radiating off of him in waves. Seconds passed in silence, the two men facing each other. One trying to get the other to submit while the other was deflecting every attempt made at him. It was an even fierce battle that neither could win. 

Well, that’s what it seemed at least. Dream let out a loud yelp as a large body pinned him down into the mattress, the hand that was previously on his throat returning, but this time with that crushing strength. As Dream looked up in surprise at the man above him, he saw his reflection in those crimson gems. 

Wide-eyed. Fearful. Angry.

“Get off of me, you fucking bas-”

Dream’s sentence was cut off as the grip on his neck strengthened causing a strangled gasp to escape him. Dream looked into the Emperor’s eyes and gasped as he saw the frigidness, emptiness almost. It was like looking into the abyss and seeing nothing but a deep void of emptiness. A shiver ran up his spine as he continued looking into the Emperor’s eyes. It was like he was mesmerized with the man, unable to look away, unable to struggle, unable to do anything but lay there as oxygen was being restricted from his lungs. He just lay there, motionless. Almost like he had given up and submitted. The Emperor seemed to see that and the coldness in his eyes diminished into a small flicker, followed by his crushing grip leaving. His hand instead went up to once again caress Dream’s face. The gentle ministrations from before returning.

Over his cheek, over his brows, across his nose, once again resting upon his lips. The touches reminded Dream of the butterfly kisses his mother would shower him in each time he awoke from a nightmare. Soft touches mimicked those kisses almost perfectly. Almost. Because unlike the love his mother’s kisses had behind them, these touches had the desire to make him submit behind them. 

“Isn’t that better? Submitting to me and not having to do anything?”

Dream watched as the Emperor’s eyes filled with a sadistic glint, a glint he had seen each time he ordered a man to be whipped or strung up for all to see. The glint that was a reminder of how he was in control and that no one could defy him. 

“Becoming mine?”

The Emperor’s lips twisted into a false soft smile, his coming closer to his own.

Dream had fought against the Emperor with his torch of defiance and freedom ever since the two had officially met all those years ago in that moonlit garden. The Emperor was like a wave of control and dominance that drowned any who came into his range, while Dream was a wildfire of defiance and freedom that never burnt out. Surviving the relentless waves of the Emperor and burning brightly. 

“Fuck off.”

He spat those words out as he brought his legs up to his chest, kicking upwards nailing the Emperor’s abdomen. Shock replaced the glint and that smile vanished quickly as the force of the kick sent the bastard falling off the edge of the bed, crashing to the floor in a mess of expensive fabric. Dream sat back up on the bed, looking down upon the Emperor’s form, meeting those dark eyes. 

Slowly, Dream got off the bed. As he did, he maintained eye contact with the fucker. Without hesitation Dream sat down on the Emperor’s chest, grabbing his collar and bringing the two face to face. Like the bastard, Dream dragged a hand across the other man’s face, caressing it until the man’s eyes were trained on him, waiting. As his hand touched the bastard’s face, Dream felt like puking. The man felt warm, human. It was ironic considering how much of a monster lay hidden behind all that flesh and bone. A wolf in sheep’s clothing.

“Did you really think I’d submit to you that easily?”

His voice came out a whisper and Dream leaned forward, lips ghosting over the ear that had a faint bite mark. 

“Did you really think I’d submit to someone like you, of all people? The person who poisoned me? The one who chains me to this godforsaken palace?”

Dream leaned back, retracting his hands from the Emperor, standing up. He didn’t bother looking at the fallen man as he pulled his sheets open for his weakened body. Just as he was about to get on the mattress, he heard rather than saw the bastard get up. Dream whipped around quickly, only to be grabbed roughly by the shirt and pulled towards the Emperor’s chest. Dream put his hands in front of him to avoid crashing into the man’s chest, but was surprised when the bastard sidestepped and let go of Dream. The movement was so quick that Dream couldn’t catch himself from falling quick enough and crashed into the hard tile. A loud crack echoed throughout the room, shocking Dream before blinding pain coursed through him, a cry of pain escaping his fucked up throat before he dissolved into loud body wracking coughs. 

The pain was intense almost as if he were being stabbed or beaten in that particular area. It hurt. It hurt so fucking much. Turning his head up slightly, tears threatening to fall, he was met with heeled black boots. Before he could even stop coughing, he felt something shove his head into the ground. A choked gasp escaped him and he began struggling violently, his vision was blurring horribly from the pain he was in. 

“I did not poison you, nor have I ever chained you in your years of living here. Our marriage is proof enough of that.”

Dream coughed harder as he forced words from his mouth, his entire body protesting at his efforts.

“You fucking bastard. You dare spout such lies? Of course you poisoned me. Cranberries are literal fucking poison to me. I can die because of them. And don’t even mention our marriage. You and me both know that I had no choice but to accept you fucking proposal.”

Everything was silent except for Dream’s pained coughs and occasional whimpers of pain he released. 

“What did you just say?”

Dream turned his head slightly from its position on the floor, being able to see the faint pink hair the Emperor owned. He glared up at the hair, spitting out his words.

“Don’t act as if you didn’t hear me. I could’ve fucking died because of you. Or is that what you wanted? Did you finally get tired of being married to me just like I have?”

What followed was pure, utter silence. Dream wasn’t coughing or whimpering, and the Emperor didn't make a sound. If his foot wasn’t atop his head, he would’ve thought the man had left. Time felt eternal as the two remained unmoving and silent. As Dream’s head rested against the floor, his temple and arm pulsed with pain. His desire to rub at his head and check his arm was strong. God, everything fucking hurt. Dream shifted as much as the foot on his head would allow him, making his head rest against the cold tile more. A sigh left his lips as the coldness seeped into his skin, his temple pain retreating somewhat. Ah, his fever was becoming worse wasn’t it?

Suddenly, the weight atop his head disappeared. Dream blinked his eyes slowly in confusion before lifting his head up. He saw the black boots turn and begin walking away, their haunting sound echoing behind them. Dream attempted to get up but cried out softly as his arm exploded in pain when he put his weight on it. And so he laid there, watching as the Emperor left him to wallow in his pain.

He watched as those gloved hands were raised to push the ornate door open and how a blur of green came barreling into the room, the sound of something shattering as it neared him. Small icy hands wrapped around him, pulling him towards a chest covered in soft fabric. He sighed in relief and burrowed into the chest, feeling drowsiness overtake him, his eyes fluttering as he attempted to stay awake for the worried voice and hands surrounding him.

“The Empress will be allowed out from today onwards, make sure he is attended to as need be.”

Oh. He could leave his room again. At the realization, he allowed his eyes to close. The yells and shaking around him meant nothing to him as he drifted off, body burning with the need to rest. And so he did. Memories of the past creeping up on him as his conscience left him. He prayed the pain would be gone when he awoke next.


	6. Not an Update

Um so, probably not what anyone wants to see but I'm not gonna be updating this month at all. I'm really sorry, I didn't want to have to write this as I enjoy writing Diadem and for the people who actually like story, I didn't want to disappoint them. But I can't write at all nowadays. It's a new semester for me so more work and I have to pick my classes for next year along with meeting with staff soon. It's been stressing me out to the point where I can't do anything but stare at my computer screen and just not write. Every sentence I write doesn't fit right, doesn't look right, doesn't sound right, its just overall bad. Add in my already shitty start to the semester with work that's been making hand burn from how long I write and the fact my sleep schedule has become even more shit, I don't have the motivation to write. 

I'm so sorry. I feel bad for even having to write this but I have to. I'd feel bad disappearing for a long while when some people were waiting for this if I didn't.

Well, that's it. Again I'm sorry. 

\- Kuruku


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone. I'm back now. I feel a lot better than before as you can tell from this chapter existing. Thank you to everyone who commented such nice things on that notice. Your words made me feel better. So thank you.
> 
> Also this was supposed to go out earlier but my friend called me and I didn't finish putting in the final edits. I legit rushed to do it because I wanted to post this as I have a project due in a few hours, which I have to go do. Other than that enjoy!

The sun was high in the sky when Dream was released from work. It was another early release day for the workers, as the peacock let them out earlier than usual. It was a mystery to Dream why the noble had let them out early. Early release was never an option unless it was for the initial planting and hoeing processes, as it was just a loss of both time and money if he were to do that. A waste of resources was what he had once called it when a woman had pleaded with him for a day off to see her ill children. Dream remembered how the man had laughed in her face before having her beaten bloody. It was sickening to have to hear and see while being expected to ignore it and continue working as if nothing were amiss.

Dream shook his head, sweat soaked hair cold against his face as it caressed his face. No, he couldn’t think about such things. Even if it pained him to push it all aside, it was better for his health not to. Damaging his health was something he had to avoid at all costs, he wouldn’t be able to work if his health was damaged.

He snorted at the thought. Wasn’t his health already damaged? Dream barely ate these days, eating small portions meant for a rabbit every few days. He’d given his sister most of his food to keep her healthy. Thinking back on it, hadn’t he always done that? Maybe that was why he was so skinny, not gaining any muscle even with all the laborious work they forced him to do. It would all be worth it though when his sister was older and able to create her own life, however. After all the debts were paid and he got rid of their relatives, it’d be worth it. He knew it would.

“I say that but, I’m hungry.”

He mumbled to himself, hand going to his pocket. His fingers traced around the pitiful amount of coins there, not even enough to buy a piece of bread. Ah, he’d bought his sister a stuffed bear along with groceries earlier this week, hadn’t he? A sigh escaped him before he retracted his hand from his pocket, turning to walk to the left where a barren street lay. Raising his head up slightly, Dream peeked at the sun above, nodding when he saw how it was still so high. That meant he had a few hours of free time before he had to go to his night job. Perfect.

Glancing behind him for a second, Dream began running down the empty street, wind whistling past his ears. The sounds of his well-worn shoes hitting the brick beneath echoed loudly in his ear as he ran, his only accompaniment on this barren street. The only sound besides the wind that would be his companion for his journey to his destination, the Claret Mountain Forest.

The Claret Mountain Forest was well known in the Antarctic Empire. Not for anything good, however. People avoided the forest along with the mountains because of the stories the area had conjured in all its years of residency in the Antarctic Lands. People getting lost and dying of hypothermia in both the winter and summer, merchants being mauled to death by unknown creatures, the bones of these merchants sliding down the mountain when the snow thinned and washed the mountain and forest floor clean. That was how the Claret Mountains had received their name, from all the blood that had been spilled along with the high death count.

The name itself was ridiculous as the word meant a deep purplish red color, not the dark red blood was known for. Then again, it had been named by the poorer uneducated folk in the past, so it was understandable.

The poor and rich avoided the place like the plague, so why was Dream going there? The answer was simple. It was Dream’s haven from all the crushing responsibility he carried around, along with being a place where he could grieve in solitude for his parents. In the forest Dream would wander around, jumping to and fro from rock to log, sometimes even hopping from branch to branch of the towering spruce trees. He felt free there. There in the forest where no one traversed, he could do whatever he wanted without having to worry about debts, money, work, food. And when he felt the urge to cry, he’d sit against a tree and sob like the child he was.

No one would see his tears, not a single soul besides the natural beauty around him. That was what he loved so much about it. The place let him hide and be the teenager he was. The Claret Mountain Forest let him be himself in some sense. The self that was buried because of all the shit life threw at him was allowed out for a few precious hours.

The forest was like a second home to Dream, a home that was still standing. In the forest, he felt warm, just like he once did when his parents would wrap their arms around him as he played with his sister. The thought of feeling at home made his legs move quicker, his mind filled with nothing but the forest and it’s warmth. The longing for home rooted deeply in his heart.

*****

Dream’s head whipped around as the sound of footsteps echoed from behind him, only to see a small squirrel staring at him from atop a tree branch, a bird's nest to the right of it. The two beings maintained eye contact for a few seconds before the squirrel scampered off, leaving Dream all alone in the Claret Mountain Forest. His eyes scanned the surrounding area for a few more moments, seeing nothing that would suggest a person was even there.

Why would anyone even be in the forest of all places? The forest that had a reputation that was worse than that pig of an Emperor?

He sighed, running a hand through his hair and cursing himself for his paranoia. He shook his head, his lips lifting into a smile as he turned around, and began traversing the uneven land, a bounce in his step as he moved.

He was brimming with happiness from just being in the forest, the sounds of the branches rustling soothing his stressed soul. His worries seemed to vanish as he continued further into the forest, his worries slipping off his skin like snake skin. It was relieving as if a large weight was lifted off his shoulders. While he knew that weight would return (it always did) it was nice to just forget about everything for a few seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, years. Staying up here in the forest, simply existing with no worries or responsibilities plaguing his mind.

Dream pinched himself at the thought. No, only hours. He couldn’t stay up here in the forest, that would mean leaving his younger sister and everything behind. Not even Dream, who could turn a blind eye to the suffering of the surrounding workers, could be that cruel. His sister was his everything, his only anchor in these trying times. Leaving her to fend for herself wasn’t even an option. Not only would he be failing his parents and sister, but himself as well. What use was there for him to live if he couldn’t even protect his sister?

There wasn’t any. He would be a failure if he did. He would stay by her side even when she grew into a respectable member of society, supporting her from the shadows. He would stay with her as long as she lived or as long as she wanted him to. That was his duty as her older brother and as the only remaining family member that truly cared about her.

Dream’s lips curled in disgust as the faces of those “relatives” of his flashed through his mind, smiles that looked more like snarls painted across their faces. He remembered them vividly, even with the months they had left his sister and him alone. The way they mocked him and disgraced his parents’ honor. The dark desire held within their eyes as they gazed upon the sleeping form of his sister who had rested in his arms, face small and doll like.

While they badgered him for the estate and everything within, they also harassed him for his sister. Of course, Dream had fought against them, fighting them off the only things he had left in this cursed world. Dream wasn’t an idiot. Quite the opposite, really. If he had continued his studies with his old tutor, he would’ve been able to get higher paying jobs along with _“honor”_. But tutors cost money, money he didn’t have because of his vulturous _“relatives”_ , who massacred his parents’ fortune.

And so he was now working two laborious jobs that drained him mentally and physically. Providing for his sister, who deserved the world that he wanted to give her. A world where she didn’t have to be around those disgusting people that wanted her for _“business”_. Dream was old enough to know what type of business they wanted her for, and he would never allow it. They would lay there hands on her over his _dead fucking body._

A sigh escaped Dream, and he stopped walking, closing his eyes and just listening to the world around him to dispel the unwanted thoughts. The tenseness of his body slowly left him, causing his body to sag in relief, the sounds of the forest echoing so beautifully around him. The sounds of nature were relaxing and filled Dream with a sense of peace. The sounds of the rustling leaves, of the animals scurrying about some ways off, the soft cries of a stream to his left, the soft padding of footsteps.

Footsteps?

Dream listened closely, not wanting to look like a fool if it was just another squirrel. As he stood there listening, it seemed the forest became a silent haven, no sound other than those footsteps was audible. Twigs snapping and dirt being stepped on by a heavy being, a being that was not a squirrel. Maybe it was a wolf or bear?

That thought went out the window as soon as he heard the loud stream of curses that were very human.

Dream’s eyes snapped open, and he twisted in the direction where the footsteps and cursing were coming from, eyes landing on a man dressed in rags. The man was nearing Dream who could only stand there in confusion and curiosity. The man had dirty brown hair and a scruffy looking beard. His skin was a deathly pale color along with sunken in cheeks. While Dream wasn’t usually one to judge by appearance, Dream knew just by looking at him, he wanted to be as far away from this man as possible. But deep down, an urge to go up to him and ask what he was doing here was blazing. No one ever stepped foot on the mountain’s incline, much less this far up and deep into the mountain’s forest. So what was the man doing here? The question chewed away at his fight-or-flight response until it was entirely gone.

So he stayed still, watching as the man approached.

A smile pulled the pale lips up into a dirty grin as the man seemed to see him for the first time, the man’s eyes gleaming with shock. The man stopped in front of him and Dream could see how spindly the man was.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here? I didn’t expect to see someone here, of all places. What are you doing here, kid?”

Dream felt his curiosity disappear as he realized why the man was in the forest. The man’s voice was slurred and there, hanging by his side, that Dream hadn’t noticed, was a bottle of cheap alcohol. The man was here to drink and hide away from the judging eyes of the people.

Once he realized this, Dream didn’t bother responding to the man, instead opting for turning on his heel and walking away from the drunk man. Talking to drunkards never turned into something good. But he hadn’t made it a single step before a rough hand wrapped around his wrist and stopped him. The hand’s touch made him freeze before he smacked the hand off of him. He brought the touched arm up, cradling it in his other hand as he glared at the drunk man. It shocked Dream to see the man’s clear eyes staring at him in amusement. His eyes weren’t clouded over with intoxication, hell the man’s eyes looked like he was sober. That small detail made his survival instincts go haywire. A sense of unease coursing through him, along with the urge to run as far as possible. This man was dangerous.

“Where do you think you’re going, kid? I’m not gonna hurt you, I’m a piece of shit but not enough of one to hurt a kid.”

The man turned around and Dream almost turned and ran, but stopped as the man looked at him over his shoulder. Amber eyes that resembled that of a snake peered at him, making Dream freeze. The man had walked toward one of the many trees surrounding them and sat by the time Dream unfroze. The man’s body leaning against the thick trunk. Dream watched him, caution seizing a firm hold of his heart.

“Come. Sit.”

Slowly, Dream moved toward a fallen log a few feet away from the man, sitting on it in a position that would let him run if need be. Turning his gaze to the man, Dream saw him drinking from the bottle. A disgusting looking brown liquid escaped from the corners of the man’s mouth once he pulled the bottle away, scruffy beard becoming wet. It was disgusting.

“What’s your name, kid?”

Dream remained silent for a few moments, debating on if he should tell the man his name or not. Based on what he could feel from the man, it was probably better to just tell him his name. After all, he didn’t know what the man would do if he didn’t.

“Dream. Dream WasTaken. That is my name. What is yours, sir?”

The man’s lips quirked up into a strange smile, eyes lighting up in amusement.

“Me? Don’t have one.”

That made Dream pause. He didn’t have one? What the hell did that mean?

“What do you mean by that?”

The man laughed. His laughter sent chills down Dream’s back. It sounded so evil, so cruel. It was the laugh that a murderer would have. This only put Dream further on edge. Just who was this man?

“What do I mean? Exactly what I said, kid. Don’t have a name, well, can’t remember it. My memory’s foggy. Been that way as far as I can remember.”

Red flags were rising in Dream's mind, his gut telling him to leave. Something was wrong with this man, and Dream wanted nothing to do with him. Maybe he could-

“You said your name was Dream WasTaken, correct?”

Dream stiffly nodded, not looking at the man’s face.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re Baron WasTaken’s son, aren’t you?”

Seeing Dream stiffly nod, the man flashed him a large grin.

“You resemble your father, you know? Same blond hair and green eyes. Your wariness of me is also the same. Guess the apple truly doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

Dream’s head had never turned so quickly before. His eyes widened as he looked at the man in shock. Thoughts running through his mind quicker than they ever had before.

“You knew my father?”

The man only laughed, bringing the bottle up to his lips again. The liquid once again dribbling into his beard, Dream ignored it in favor of giving his full attention to the man. He had never met this man before, nor had he ever heard his father mention him. Dream was curious about the man, his wariness being pushed aside in favor of wanting answers.

“Yup. Your father was a friend of mine, swell guy. Heard he passed a few years back, was all the citizens could talk about for weeks after all.”

Dream was about to open his mouth to respond, but the man cut him off, his bottle being put to rest against his leg. Dream could see his reflection in the bottle, a wide-eyed child wanting answers.

“But it was for the best. I always told your father he’d dig himself into a hole someday that he couldn’t get out of. Dying was probably his best decision. Even if it wasn’t his entirely,”

Dream’s breath was stolen away from what the man had just said. The words had dumped a bucket of ice water onto his body, confusing and angering him.

“Excuse me? What did you just say?”

His voice was cold and hard as he stood up from the log he was on, glaring at the drunk man. He couldn’t believe what he had just heard. What did this man mean when he said his dad was better off dead? What did he fucking mean? How could he say something like that to Dream, of all people? The victim of his father’s passing? The one who lost fucking everything because of his father’s death? The one who had to give up so much?

The man seemed not to notice Dream’s growing anger and continued on talking as if what he said wasn’t problematic. As if what he said hadn’t angered Dream.

“That reminds me, you’re the son of the Mistress of Baron WasTaken, are you not? The one who caused the WasTaken’s being reduced to nothing?”

Dream’s anger bubbled into a boiling state as soon as he heard those words. Never in his years of living had he ever heard someone refer to his mother as a mistress. Nor had he ever heard anyone darken his parents’ marriage. His parents had known each other ever since they were small, falling in love as they grew older, marrying and having children once they had their lives settled. And yet this man had the audacity to say such fucking things?

“What the fuck did you just say?”

Dream clenched his fists before walking the final few steps and decking the drunkard in his despicable face. A loud thud sound echoed along with a cracking sound as his fist crashed into the man’s face. Anger, pure red hot anger coursed through Dream as his fist hung in the air after the man was pushed down from the force of his fist. He could feel his muscles contracting violently, his breathing coming out in angered pants as he glared down at the man.

“You have the fucking audacity to say such things in front of me, the son of the people you’re speaking ill of? What the fuck is wrong with you? You have no right to say any of those things, especially in front of me. You, an outsider who knows jack shit about my family. Just fucking shut up already.”

Dream raised his leg, bringing it to the man’s rib cage. His anger boiling, simmering as he continued to be around the man. He wanted to pummel this man until he couldn’t see the rise and fall of his chest. He wanted to punish this man for what he dared to say about his parents. He wanted to-

Dream stopped. No. He shouldn’t stoop down to this man’s level. Dream sucked in a large breath of air before turning on his heel and walking away. Each step was heavy, his desire to keep pummeling the man strong, but he kept walking, his pace getting quicker and quicker as the distance between them widened. His pace quickened until he was sprinting down the mountain, the man’s words echoing loudly in his head. No matter how hard Dream tried, his words stuck to his mind like a leech.

As Dream reached the bottom of the mountain, he glanced behind. The forest no longer looked warm or homely instead it looked dark and dreary. He sighed before continuing to sprint away from the Claret Mountain Forest, his mind troubled.

Dream lost his second home that day.

*****

The man was silent as he watched the Dream run away, motionless as the seconds ticked by. He remained that way until the boy was no longer in sight, then loud cackling laughter escaped him. The man’s head was thrown back, the bottle in his hands being slammed against the ground and shattering from the force. Glass shards dug into the man’s hand, but he didn’t seem to notice or he just didn’t care. Red liquid dripping into the dirt below. A large manic grin stretched the man’s pale lips, making him seem ghastly.

“Oh, old friend, looks like your son really is just like you. I wish you could’ve been here to see this. What he’s about to be turned into.”

The man stood up, wiping his hands against his pants. Chuckles escaping him as he did so.

“But, then again, I enjoyed hearing your screams of pain as you died beneath me. I wonder what you’re thinking up there in the Lord’s Home. Are you angry about what I said to him? I bet you are. Well, old friend, you’re going to be even angrier once you hear what I have planned for him. He’s going to make a fitting bride for the little Emperor. I’ll make sure of it.”

The man raised his raggedy sleeve up and wiped at his face, white painted his sleeve as he pulled his face up. A fuller and healthier looking face was now visible. Chuckles escaped the man before he walked away from the area, all that remained of his presence being the bottle of alcohol.

* * *

Drista didn’t know what to do anymore. It had been 3 days since the Emperor had visited Dream and he had yet to wake. No matter what she and the doctors did, her brother lay there like a doll. Unresponsive if it weren’t for his chest rising and falling along with the heat permeating off of his body.

That damned doctor had been of no use. He had had the audacity to suggest giving Dream medicine that the Emperor himself had bought. The second the words “His Majesty” had left that old man’s mouth, she had thrown her mask at him, the porcelain object shattering as it hit the floor. She had yelled at him, telling him to not come back unless he had a solution that would actually work.

You’d think that the doctor would’ve tried something to help her ill brother, but of course, he was as corrupt as the rest. Following the Emperor’s lead without question. She’d bet half her accumulated wealth that if the Emperor gave a vial of poison to drink, he’d drink it just to please him. The people of the place were the same as the nobles outside, money hungry and bootlickers for the Emperor only. They could give less of a shit about her brother.

As much as both she and Dream disliked admitting it, he was the Empress. Which meant that all they expected of him was to look occasionally over documents and sign them with his primary purpose being to sit beside the Emperor. Sit by his side and be the Mother of the Empire. The position of Empress wasn’t as perfect as many made it up to be, both of them had found this out the hard way.

The position of Empress had little to no power, having to cling onto the Emperor and hope he favored her. Unless, of course, they received the support of the citizens. This was the only reason Dream had as much power as he did. The citizens adored him. They adored him to the point of going against the Emperor if something even happened to Dream.

It reminded Drista of how no one outside of the palace had been informed of Dream’s condition. Why? Exactly as she had stated. The citizens would riot and begin demanding that whoever gave Dream cranberries be put to death. Their anger would be immeasurable once they found out it was the Emperor himself, who had given Dream such vile things.

If only the same could be said about those disgusting nobles. Maybe then she wouldn’t have to worry so much about her brother’s wellbeing. But alas, the world was cruel to the saints. And to her, Dream was a saint. A saint who took on the burden of everything to make everyone else happy.

Drista sighed, gripping tightly onto Dream’s hands.

“Dream, why don’t you ever tell me what’s going on with you? Why do I always have to find out when it’s too late? Why don’t you ever let me share your burden?”

She watched as Dream lay there unmoving, breath coming out in small pants. Her heart ached as she saw this, hands leaving Dream’s grabbing a wet cloth from the bucket on the bedside table. She wrung the cloth before draping it over Dream’s forehead, kissing his cheek as she retreated.

Another sigh escaped her, and she grabbed Dream’s hand again, caressing it and whispering things to Dream, hoping he would hear. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes as she felt no movement from Dream, her head ducking down to hide from the world.

She felt like a small child again, sitting by her sick brother’s side as he suffered from a high fever, being able to do nothing but support him as he was trapped in his own mind. A prison that he himself had created to avoid the pains of the fever. It was ironic, really. Dream had made himself a prison of memories to escape the pain, but those memories only brought him more pain. Her idiot brother.

“Dream, you fucking idiot. I’m going to kill you when you wake up.”

Even as she said those words, tears spilled from her eyes, rolling over her cheeks as hope blossomed within her. Dream was going to wake up. He was going to wake up. And once he did, she would protect him. She would do everything in her power to protect him from that bastard of an Emperor and his bootlickers. Even if it meant doing something that most would regret.

So why was she crying if he was going to wake up? She didn't know.

“Wake up, please. Please. Dream.”

No, she did know. Even with all her faith and hope Dream would wake up, she was still scared. Scared she’d never see her older brother’s smile, his shining emerald eyes, the sound of his voice, his laughter. She was scared. So very scared.

“Dream, please.”

Her cries went unheard by the motionless male.

* * *

It was midnight when Dream arrived home. His body sluggish and eyes blurring with exhaustion. He was so tired. After what had happened in the forest a few days ago, Dream had been unable to function properly. He had been yelled at more than 10 times by the shop owner during the night, the man had threatened to fire him if he didn’t work harder. Dream had apologized each time but his work had only gone further downhill. His work was so shitty that the shop owner had sent him away and told him he had better come back better or to not even bother showing up for work tomorrow. Hell, he hadn’t even gotten his wage for the night.

To make matters short, Dream was on the chopping block if he didn’t get his act together.

A sigh escaped him and he ran a hand across his face, annoyed to all hell with the day’s events. It was that man’s fault. If only he hadn’t said such things about his parents, Dream wouldn’t have been on the verge of being stripped of his job. Losing his night job meant he’d have to either do shady work or do indoor work, of all things. Both options meant he’d lose something, be it his morality or his purity.

The thought of losing any of the two made his nose scrunch in disgust. He sighed again and dug around in his poor excuse for pants for his key. His hand moved against his thigh as it grabbed at whatever felt cold and metallic. Coins, a hair clip he’d forgotten to give his sister, a little pocket watch, and his key. Dream smiled slightly as his finger swapped around the key and brought it out into clear view. The key was a rusting silver with his family’s insignia carved into it. Two small dots above a long upside down arch. A smiley face is what his father had called.

A cute thing, really. He vaguely remembered his father crafting a mask with that exact smiley face on it, it lay somewhere buried in the depths of his parents’ bedroom. He couldn’t remember if the mask was finished or not, all he could remember was his father proudly showing it off. A large smile on his face.

Dream put his hand on the handle of the door and stopped short when he felt the thing open slightly. That was strange. His sister always shut the door when she arrived, having been taught the dangers of a small girl in a large house alone. The dangers were increased as well considering the downfall of their Baron status.The perfect target for the despicable nobles and degenerates of the Empire.

The grip on the handle tightened and Dream pulled the door fully open, not bothering to close it as he stormed inside, his guard up and hackles raised. His eyes scanned the entrance area of the estate seeing nothing out of the ordinary nor out place. Everything was where it was meant to be and yet at the same time they weren’t. Something felt off the longer he stood there scanning the room. Something was wrong. So very fucking wrong.

Without a second of hesitation, Dream stalked toward his younger sister’s room, his cheap shoes echoing loudly. His ears were listening to everything around him, trying to hear anything that could be considered out of the ordinary. There was nothing. Which was the problem. The closer he got to his sister’s room, the more he became worried because of that very reason. His sister snored for fuck’s sake, so why couldn’t he hear her snoring. While not very loud, it was still audible if he listened carefully, and yet there was nothing.

He stood before her door before pushing it open, his breath being taken away when he saw no one in the room. There were traces of someone having been there, but other than that, nothing. Where was his sister?

He turned on his heel out of the room faster than he had ever done before and ran down the hall, his chest swelling with worry.

“Drista! Drista, where are you?”

There was no answer. Panic was welling up in his heart as his pace picked up, eyes frantic as they searched for any hint of his sister.

“Drista, this isn’t funny! Come on out!”

There was no response at first until-

“Dream!”

Dream’s steps halted as he heard his sister’s voice, his heart settling down.

“Dream, come here!”

Dream began running to the area where his sister’s voice originated from, hoping she was alright. As he made his way, he noticed that the direction he was heading in was the way to his parents’ study. His sister knew not to go in there, so why was she there?

It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he saw she was perfectly fine. That she wasn’t hurt in any way.

He saw the door to his parents’ study open with warm candlelight slipping through to the hall. He slowed down and bit his lip before shoving the door open. The door opened with a bang and he saw the inside of a room he had avoided like the plague since the death of his parents. Walls lined with books, a grand desk, chairs and a table that should’ve been empty but was instead filled with people.

Dream did a double take once he saw the people sitting in the seats. His small sister who was sitting atop a man’s lap, smiling once she saw him. A man Dream knew all too well. His eyes whipped away from the man to the other people in the room and felt his heart drop along with a fire of anger and hatred brew within him. A lady with blonde hair tied up neatly with a younger version of herself sitting by her side. He knew them as well.

“Dream, look Aunty and Uncle came to visit! Rosee’s here too!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Hey, has anyone read the webnovel Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint? If you haven't, go read it. I recommend it full heartedly.)


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